Diablo Blanco Club, Rite of First Claim Read online

  I can do this, damn it. I know I can.

  Her window of opportunity was dwindling fast. Everything she wanted was riding on this single night. It had to succeed. She needed to succeed.

  When her mind conjured images of Mike Halsey’s dark hair and eyes, the sharp stab of pain made her gasp. No, a child who carried Mike’s coloring but wasn’t his was likely to create too many questions from her sister and Bryce. Not to mention stir up dreams of what might have been if… No, Lyssa determined. It was gray-haired, blue-eyed Dayton Kringle she needed.

  Now all she had to do was convince him to select her when the clock struck midnight. It shouldn’t be too difficult. Her heart tripped, and the palms of her hands grew damp, making it risky to keep hold of her half-empty glass of soda. After swallowing a sip, she set it down on the small table beside the sofa she shared with Dayton and tried to pay attention to what he was saying.

  Since she’d approached him, they’d chatted about various things relating to their respective businesses, movies they’d seen, authors they’d read. If it hadn’t been for the setting, Lyssa could have likened the conversation to the banal subjects discussed on a first date.

  An hour. Just sixty minutes. The litany repeated in her head as she counted down the time before the dominants selected their submissives and the parties would move into private rooms upstairs or negotiations began for public performances.

  The dark-haired investigator she’d entered the Club with slipped onto the chair across from the sofa and greeted them. “Hey, Dayton, long time no see.” Turning to her, David grinned. “Hello again, Lyssa.”

  “Hello.” She offered a slight nod. Unsure how to interpret the interruption, she waited to gauge how Dayton responded and ignored her internal sigh of relief at David’s arrival.

  “You know Miss Lawrence?” Dayton queried, leaning back in his seat. His callused fingertips brushed over her knuckles, then moved upward to rub along the white bangle on her wrist.

  Tension coiled at the base of her skull—a dull ache building with the pressure of maintaining a placid expression. With each slide of Dayton’s fingers along the white band around her wrist, Lyssa fought the urge to pull her hand away. Thoughts of the plan she’d carefully constructed kept her from acting on the impulse. She ignored the signals her body kept sending—that the touch wasn’t his, that it didn’t feel right, that the warmth didn’t penetrate to the very atoms of her being like Mike’s did.

  David nodded. “Yes. I came in with her. Plus, I remember when she and her sister first visited the Club before Mattie and Bryce married. You should recall her opposition to Bryce carrying off her sister. It garnered a few members’ attention.”

  The flash in David’s eyes hinted that he knew the outcome between her and Mike the night she tried to stop Bryce from taking her sister upstairs. But before Lyssa could react, David returned his attention to Dayton and continued.

  “We didn’t formally meet though until her sister’s collaring ceremony.” He turned a grin on her and gave her a slow wink. “I was wondering if you were going to keep close to Ben and Vance tonight, but I guess you’ve decided to venture out a bit, huh?”

  “I’m thinking about it.” Lyssa hoped her face didn’t reflect the panic swirling in her belly. If either of these men alluded to the way Mike had dragged her off the night of her first visit to the Club, she wasn’t sure how she would respond.

  “You haven’t come in with them in a while,” David remarked.

  Damn it, she needed to get Dayton alone to persuade him to select her tonight. “I didn’t realize my visits had become that notable.” She employed every bit of self-control to keep her voice steady.

  It was Dayton’s turn to respond. “Ben and Vance are very exclusive. The fact that you’ve joined them over the last few years has been a subject of some discussion among the Club members.”

  Lyssa hoped her smile looked relaxed rather than tense. If the unease knotting her insides and the repeated complaints filling her head showed on her face, it was sure to cause Dayton to hesitate in choosing her at midnight. “Should I be flattered?”

  “Definitely.” They assured her in unison.

  “Was there something you wanted to discuss, David?” Kringle asked.

  “Not really. Just wanted to come over and say hello. Oh, and warn you that the Dragon cometh.”

  The remark confused Lyssa almost as much as Dayton’s response. The toy maker sat a little straighter in his seat and eyed her as if she were an unexpected package tucked under a Christmas tree. “He is? That hasn’t happened in a while.”

  David smirked. “I guess something—or someone—tweaked his tail. He’s a bit miffed.”

  Dayton laughed. The deep booming sound drew the attention of several other guests and members. “This should be interesting. I’ll have to see if I can keep the man on his toes.”

  David’s own rumbling laugh settled between the three of them. “I have no doubt he’ll be on his toes. I just wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his fire.”

  Uncomfortable with being ignored and having her plan on shaky ground, Lyssa decided to pull the men’s attention back to where it needed to be—on her. She crossed her legs, allowing the skirt of her dress to slide up and show a hint of the lacy top of her thigh-high stockings. It was difficult to keep the smile from showing on her lips at the immediate attention the bit of silk garnered. Deliberately pushing the velvet skirt back into place, she commented, “I’ve never attended a Midnight Masquerade before. Have either of you been to one?”

  “I’ve been to several. Did you have a question about how events transpire?” Dayton moved his arm to the back of the sofa behind Lyssa’s shoulders.

  She stifled a soft sigh of relief at the removal of his touch. “There have always been rumors and stories, but I’ve never talked to someone who’s been to a masquerade.”

  “What about Bryce? Didn’t you ask him?” David leaned forward, an eyebrow quirked.

  She rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated huff. “Need to know, and apparently I didn’t need to know.”

  Neither man hid their amusement. Lyssa turned away from the pair and looked around while she waited for them to wind down. The double doors of the Club’s entrance opened, admitting several costumed, tuxedoed, and evening gown-clad guests.

  The instant she met Mike’s gaze, her entire body tensed and her breath froze in her lungs. He tilted his head at her, then walked toward the bar. The tingle of electricity skittered over her skin, and a warm curl of interest stirred to life in her center. Her heart pounded as her gaze followed his progress, and she watched him chat with Vance while he waited for his drink.

  “I haven’t seen him attend a masquerade in four years,” she heard Dayton comment.

  “Must be someone important to drag him out of his cave,” David observed.

  All three of them watched as Mike received a drink from Vance, along with a key. The heat in Lyssa’s belly intensified. If Mike was getting a key, it could only mean he’d reserved one of the rooms upstairs. Lyssa caught the tense look Ben sent her way, and her pulse rabbited.

  “Room nine again?” David’s cryptic question seemed to make sense to Dayton, even if it meant nothing to Lyssa.

  Dayton nodded. “Definitely.”

  Lyssa swallowed the impulse to run. If she hadn’t gone so far in her plans, she would have done exactly that, but she’d come too far to stop now. She wouldn’t be deterred simply because Mike decided to show up. What had happened between her and Mike was in the past. There was no reason either of them should be concerned about the potential partners they interacted with during the masquerade. Nothing connected them anymore beyond the fact that Mike’s older brother was married to her younger sister. Her heart ached at the reminder of what could have been, but she pushed it back. She was working to rectify that part of her life.

  A semblance of calm settled over her. I can handle this. I can. Her pep talk halted the moment a sexy brunette dressed as a
cowgirl and wearing a yellow bracelet approached Mike. Lyssa’s desire to stride over to the pair and yank them apart was overwhelming. She curled her fingers into her palms to keep from slapping the girl. And she was a girl. Younger than Mike by at least six, perhaps eight years. It took a concerted effort for Lyssa to return her attention to the men with her.

  See, what other proof do you need that he’s too young for you? It was the same soft warning she’d heard every time the thought of being with Mike tempted her. Six years might not seem like much, not now. But mix in the work they both did, his tendency to frequent war zones and places where natural disasters hit, and the fact that any feelings he might have for her were doomed to fade. Just look at what had happened the first time she allowed her heart to overrule her head when it came to him: he’d left her waiting. Alone.

  “I’d heard Rena was looking for another master,” David mentioned. His gaze moved between the couple near the bar and Dayton.

  Dayton nodded. “From what I heard, Fenton has been having a heck of a time with her.”

  “She’s had her eye on Mike or Richard since she was approved to join the Club two years ago.” David winked at Lyssa when he added, “She tried to get Bryce’s interest, but he wanted nothing to do with her. Especially after she made a few comments about how unattractive a pregnant woman was. And how babies ruin a woman’s figure.”

  Lyssa felt her lips compress. The irritation she felt at Rena’s insult toward her sister increased her desire to intervene between the woman and Mike. At least that was what she told herself. “And what did Bryce tell her?” She might not fully understand the relationship her little sister had with Bryce Halsey, but one thing she did know—and never doubted—was Bryce’s single-minded love of, devotion to, and fidelity toward Mattie.

  “He didn’t even look at Rena when he informed her that watching his pregnant wife move was one of the sexiest and most arousing things he’d ever seen. Then he politely told Rena to get lost.”

  “I’m sure Mat had something to say as well.” Lyssa had no doubt her sister would make a comment to the other woman.

  Both of her companions laughed. “Rena was no dummy. She waited until Mattie waddled off to the bathroom before approaching Bryce.” Dayton grinned.

  “Waddled?”

  David nodded. “Yup. Mattie was about six months along with Sean.”

  The accuracy of their description startled a laugh from Lyssa. Her sister had definitely waddled with her second pregnancy. “I’m surprised Bryce didn’t follow Mat to the bathroom.”

  “Oh, he did.” Mike’s voice drifted over her shoulder.

  The tingle along her nape and the sudden increase in her heartbeat should have warned Lyssa he was getting close, but she’d ignored the signals. She could see him from the corner of her right eye. “Your brother drives Mat crazy when he’s overprotective.”

  Dayton scooted away as Mike leaned his hip against the sofa back behind her shoulder.

  “Bryce is a Halsey. We protect what belongs to us.”

  Lyssa shifted enough to meet Mike’s gaze.

  He held it as he added, “Whether they want it or not.”

  “A bit like a dragon watching over its hoard of treasure, right?” David suggested.

  Mike sipped his drink. “Exactly.” The grin lifting his lips was one of satisfaction more than humor. The fingers of his other hand played with the curls of her wig before he stroked the fur-trimmed neckline of her dress.

  Lyssa ignored the way her breasts began to ache and the fact that her nipples had hardened and now pressed against the silk and lace of her bra. Lyssa shifted her legs, trying to quell the heat at the apex of her thighs.

  If she didn’t get rid of him soon, Mike was going to ruin everything. Telling him to leave wouldn’t do it. She’d have to make him want to leave. She rose from her seat, dislodging Mike’s hand, and was instantly dwarfed by the three men as they stood around her. Facing Mike, she asked, “And if the protection isn’t wanted? How do Halseys handle the women who refuse to submit?”

  Mike moved around the sofa to stand in front of her. “Submission isn’t the goal, love. Protecting our mates is our responsibility, even if it means protecting them from themselves.”

  Lyssa laughed. No damned way was she letting Mike take the lead in anything. Been there. Done that. And more than paid the price. Leaning forward, she eased the crystal tumbler from his fingertips and swallowed the measure in one quick gulp. The Scotch burned all the way down, but she refused to betray her reaction to the taste. “I’ve spent a long time taking care of myself, kid. I think I know what’s best for me.” She handed the glass back to him and turned back to the two men watching them.

  Dayton stifled his laughter with a roguish but charming smile—a clear attempt to put her at ease. “Are you truly interested, Lyssa?” he asked.

  Her breath unsteady, throat slightly raw from the alcohol, she croaked out a question of her own. “Interested?”

  Dayton nodded. “Yes. Are you interested in experiencing submission to me?” His dark blue eyes examined her closely as he held his hand out to her.

  Lyssa forced herself to meet his gaze. This is it. My chance. Tell him yes. Say yes. The voice in her head urged her to respond while she worked hard to ignore Mike hovering behind her.

  The blood rushed through her veins, pounding in her ears, drowning out the sounds around her. Even the four-piece jazz ensemble fell quiet just as Lyssa inched her hand away from her side to set it in Dayton’s.

  Lyssa could have crowed with joy. She was doing it, ignoring her internal longing for Mike and taking the next logical step to completing her plan.

  Long, tanned fingers gripped her forearm, stilling her limb’s ascent and sending fire cascading through her body.

  “Hands off, Kringle.” The threat was clear in those three words.

  Lyssa shifted her gaze from the man before her to the one standing behind her left shoulder. Temper blazed in his dark brown eyes, but his features were smooth, giving nothing of his emotions away. She only hoped her own features masked the emotions slamming through her. She was so close, damn it! What right did he have to interfere? Bastard!

  If she said one word in protest, Mike wasn’t sure he’d be able to control himself. He was tired. His body ached from exhaustion, but he’d be damned if he’d let another man claim what was his. No matter how many times he’d apologized for the only date he’d canceled, Lyssa’s damned stubborn nature wouldn’t allow him to make a dent in the armor surrounding her heart.

  Four years of watching her avoid him at every turn and pretend his interest was no more than the buzz of an annoying insect. Not this time, darlin’. This time you don’t go anywhere until I say so. Although his gaze never moved from Dayton, he could see color suffuse her cheeks.

  She stood tense, ready for battle. Bring it on, doll. I’ve been waiting for this. If she had an inkling of the plans he had for her, plans he’d cultivated for the last four years, she might have rethought using his invitation to snare another man.

  “She’s free for selecting, Halsey,” Dayton informed him and motioned to the white bangle sliding down her forearm.

  Mike made short work of plucking the bracelet from her wrist and shoving it into the pocket of his trousers. “No, she’s not.”

  “Just because—” Dayton began.

  “You know I had her here first. That means she’s mine by Rite of First Claim, Kringle.” Mike tugged her away from Dayton, but he could feel resistance building within her. The muscles in her arm tensed beneath his hold, and the soft fullness of her lips thinned as she glared up at him.

  “What in hell are you talking about, Mike?” Lyssa demanded under her breath. She seemed hyperaware of the guests surrounding them, watching the scene unfold, and Mike suspected that was the reason she hadn’t raised her voice.

  Vance Justiss eased the hatch on the bar up and stepped from behind the counter to stand beside his lover and partner, Ben Murphy. Both men watched, thei
r eyes focused on Lyssa and the way Mike retained hold of her.

  “Club rules, Halsey,” Dayton warned, his blue eyes moving from him to Lyssa, then back. “If she doesn’t want—”

  Mike smirked and stepped around Dayton, drawing Lyssa along with him despite the slight resistance she put up. “First Claim supersedes all rules, Dayton.” As he neared Ben and Vance, Mike first met one man’s concerned gaze, then the other’s before he added, “All of them.”

  Ben’s gaze narrowed, and his nostrils flared as if he was working hard to keep from physically stopping Mike. However, Vance was the one to speak. “Only if you’ve had sex with her in the Club before tonight.”

  He felt Lyssa tremble against his fingertips. Would she lie, Mike wondered. Would she deny what had happened between them simply to avoid being with him now? And if she did, was he willing to call her on that lie? Could he intentionally draw the scrutiny of the other members—highlight his woman’s reluctance to being claimed by him? Yes. Hell, Mike knew he would take on his own brother to have Lyssa, even if it meant never being allowed to set foot in the Club again. He looked to Lyssa for her response.

  She glanced at him with narrowed eyes. Mike’s expression challenged her to deny his statement. She was angry at him, but she wasn’t about to hide behind a lie—not his Lyssa.

  Her shoulders went back, and she nodded. Her cool blue eyes glared at him before she moved her attention to Vance. The answer she gave the other man came out glib and unconcerned. “Yes, but it was a game, years ago. No harm, no foul. Right?”

  Mike knew it for the taunt she’d intended it to be.

  Somehow, somewhere in the four years since their first time together, Lyssa had convinced herself his interest wasn’t real. Even after he’d visited her home weeks later and the physical connection between them had been stronger the second time. He cursed the emergency call that had dragged him away the night of their first and only date. It wasn’t hard to see Lyssa still held his standing her up against him. She refused to believe his intentions were serious. But by the time the sun rose tomorrow morning, she’d know differently.